Why is this the story?

Screenshot circulating from Insights Magazine Facebook post, Jan 2026:
“Charlotte Dujardin looking super slim after having had her 2nd child and back in top flight competition again…”

This is how we are still speaking. In sport. In media. In 2026.

A world-class athlete returns to international competition after giving birth to her second child, and the focus of the piece is her appearance. Not her performance. Not her strength. Not her discipline. Just how slim she looks.

That is not a compliment. It is a failure. It is a decision that tells us exactly where women still stand when it comes to public recognition. Their bodies first. Their work second.

Charlotte Dujardin is not just back. She is rebuilding. She is showing up. She is climbing back into the pressure, into the precision, into the scrutiny that defines elite-level sport. And that journey is not easy. It is not invisible. It is not always aesthetic.

This could have been the line:

“Charlotte Dujardin returns to international competition months after the birth of her second child, riding the young mare Alive and Kicking in Amsterdam, looking strong, powerful, and composed.”

Because that is the truth.

She looks capable. She looks focused. She looks like a rider who belongs exactly where she is - not because of how she appears, but because of how she performs. Her seat, her stillness, her control in the saddle all speak to years of mastery and relentless determination. Her body is not something to be judged. It is something to be respected. It is doing its job.

She spent a year out of international competition following a suspension by the international federation, after a video surfaced in 2024 which led to her withdrawal from the Paris Olympics. She returned in 2025 and has been steadily rebuilding her rhythm, her connection with new horses, and her place in the sport.

The problem is not this one sentence on its own. The problem is how ordinary it still seen. That this type of commentary is so normal that it can pass question. That it can still set the tone for how some people talk about women in sport, especially mothers. That it can still frame their value in terms of how closely they resemble their pre-baby selves.

This is not harmless. This is not flattery. This is part of the system that teaches girls and women to monitor their appearance before they are even taught to own their strength. It is part of the reason so many women feel like they have to justify their bodies - in the saddle, in the gym, in the mirror.

Charlotte Dujardin, like any rider, is not here to be known as slim. She is not here to tick anyone’s box for how a female athlete should look. She is here to ride. She is here to compete. She is here to work.

That is the story. That is what should lead. That is what deserves attention.

If we cannot write about women without bringing their appearance into it, then we have failed women.

At EQUITAS, we are not interested in compliments that reinforce the same tired ideals. We are interested in truth. In strength. In seeing women clearly.

Charlotte Dujardin looks strong. She looks powerful. She looks like a competitor. That should have been the headline.

And until that becomes the norm, we will keep calling it out.

No more shrinking. No more silence. No more surface.